


Trent Is The Demon I Cling To

by SeleneDarkbloom



Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Crack Relationships, M/M, Tiny bit of TsengRu, Tseng's bad choices in life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27130204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeleneDarkbloom/pseuds/SeleneDarkbloom
Summary: Tseng finds himself in a odd rivalry with a fellow recruit, but that's not all there is to it.
Relationships: Trent/Tseng
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	Trent Is The Demon I Cling To

**Author's Note:**

> For all of my fellow sinners. I have no regrets, but Tseng certainly does.

Tseng's first day at the Turk Academy was intimidating, but he would not let it show. He stood quietly on his own observing the other recruits talking amongst themselves. Some of them were so loud and obnoxious that he wondered how they'd fare in this job that requires discretion. He supposes they have some skill that should be useful. That's how Veld got to him. There was something in him worth honing.

He remains unnoticed for the most part, with the exception of one person. He looked a lot like Tseng, though taller and broader. He was most likely older than Tseng. He found it funny. Nobody else looked like them here, this was a relief, for it meant less attention to himself. Or so he thought. Once he was noticed by him; everyone else seemed to realize Tseng was there.

He eyes Tseng from head to toe and walks his way, he suddenly felt really small. There was this smirk on the other man’s face, smug. Tseng decided he didn’t like that.

“Well, I guess two Wutaians for the cause are better than one.”

Tseng says nothing, gives his best neutral expression. He keeps eyeing Tseng and is about to say something when Veld comes in the room. From there he doesn’t speak to him again until days later.

They are in the cafeteria during lunch break, Trent — as he learned — had invited him to sit at his table. Tseng politely refused. If anything, the last few days had proven him Trent was not the kind of person he’d like to be around. Coming from a rich family and fresh out of the Military academy, he was snob; to say the least. Often bragging, loud, brash and entitled.

Tseng didn’t think this often about people, yet.

_He hated him._

Months go buy and Tseng finds himself smiling inwardly whenever an instructor finally decides to take Trent down a few notches. His family name and money can do a lot. But not here. Learning to be a Turk was shedding your past self, becoming what Shinra needed them to be. Some had a harder time with that than others.

* * *

Their second year in the academy, and a lot changed while still remaining the same. Tseng found himself a group of peers, the two brash redheads, Rod and Legend, being in it. Well, unlike Trent, they were nice to be around. For the most part Trent was still the same. He had some sort of rivalry with Tseng, he couldn’t figure out why. But Tseng was more than happy to beat him when they were pit against one another in a fighting session.

He attributes the warmth building between his legs to the constant friction. Certainly, it was not attraction, Trent evoked everything opposite to that in him.

* * *

All of the recruits had gone to this bar in Sector One to celebrate the end of their third year. Tseng watched amused as Emma punched Trent in the face after he tried flirting with her. He takes a shot of his drink and smiles into the glass. Trent would never have a chance with her, much less with that hideous sparse mustache he had taken to grow out this year.

Trent takes the only available seat by his side; it doesn’t bother him. Tseng could say he’d come to tolerate Trent rather than hate him. His shallowness was welcome. He was exactly what he showed himself to be, and it was oddly comforting. Not having to worry about looking into things.

Tseng offers him a drink to be polite. Trent accepts and takes a swig at it, setting the glass down against the table.

“Man, she really needed to punch me?”

“Three years and you still don’t know Emma? That’s on you.” Tseng gives him a napkin for the bloody nose.

“Ouch, thanks, long-locks.”

Tseng didn’t like the nickname, but hearing it made his chest flutter. He blames the alcohol and orders another shot.

“So, aren’t you going to celebrate? Just going to sit there ordering shot after shot?”

“This is me, celebrating. What else do you expect me to do?” Tseng tells him.

“You could easily score someone for the night. All you need to do is bat those long eyelashes at them.”

Tseng feels his cheeks warm, not alcohol related, and he knows. The subtle compliment was there and he finds himself wishing to hear more.

“I don’t have the energy to flirt with anyone right now.”

“You don’t have to.”

Trent looked at him and Tseng felt like he wanted to hide, instead… he looked back.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He asks, hoping it was what he thought it was.

Trent smirks and looks away shaking his head.

“Do you wanna head out?”

Tseng thinks for a moment and drinks the last of his whiskey. He was going to regret this, but that was a problem for his tomorrow-self to worry about.

The air outside is much cooler, when the door shuts trapping the loud music within it is quiet for a moment. Trent pulls a cigar out of his pocket and lights it up. He plays with the lighter, the click of the lid opening and closing was the rhythm of his breathing. Trent stared at him while he took a drag and then blew the smoke out. It was almost to intense to hold his eyes.

Tseng falls into a steady walk towards a cheap hotel nearby. He hadn’t felt this nervous since his first kiss at sixteen. And he feels stupid. He was training to kill people for a living, why couldn’t he be more put together about meaningless sex?

They chat about nothing in particular, sharing a cigarette and enjoying the walk for a while. That is until Trent asks him to stop, the hand on Tseng’s arm slides down to his hand and Trent pulls him to the dark alley beside them. He pushes Tseng against the brick walls and knocks the wind out of him. He has less than a second to register before his mouth is crashing onto his, and he finds himself giving way for Trent.

He tasted like cigarettes and alcohol, and Tseng wanted more. He wraps his arms to the back of his neck and buries his hands in Trent’s hair pulling him closer.

Tseng hated Trent, but he wanted him.

That realization made him furious. He didn’t know if he was angry for desiring him, or for all the years wasted thinking it was hate.

Right now, it didn’t matter. He just cared about how his body felt so close to his, how the thigh between his legs made him choke. Tseng flips them and presses him against the wall, giving one final kiss before dropping to his knees and working Trent’s belt and pulling his cock out in record time. It was half hard and warm on his hand, he quickly worked on it and took him deep in his mouth.

He didn’t think his night would end with him on his knees in the back of a dirty alley giving Trent a blowjob. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it though. Trent pulls him up and wipes the bit of saliva in the corner of his mouth and palms Tseng through his pants. His cock was hard and aching for attention.

Trent smiles at him like a predator about to attack and he finds that he likes it. That he wants him to look at him like that. Trent turns him to face the cold and dirty brick wall. His hands are on Tseng’s chest and they slide down until they reach his pants, Trent makes quick work of it and the chill wind against his skin makes him shiver. There is a click of a cap and then Trent’s hands, slick with lube, are on his ass. He braces himself against the wall has he works him, fingers brushing against the spot that made him quiver.

Trent kisses the back of his neck before pushing his cock inside of him and setting a punishing pace. Tseng lets out a particularly loud moan and Trent laughs behind him.

“Who knew you were such a whore for it.”

That made his own cock twitch. It leaked with pre cum, Tseng circles his hand around it, working himself to the same pace Trent thrust in him. It doesn’t take long for the both of them to cum. Tseng feels a bit out of it while pulling his pants back up but content nonetheless.

“See, this is how you celebrate.” Trent tells him before walking away.

* * *

They had a few more encounters after that, and soon Tseng could say they were more than just fuck buddies. But that didn’t last. Like he’d noted the night they had sex for the first time, Trent was… well Trent. You see what you get, and that didn’t work for Tseng. He breaks things off and a few months later he hears Trent didn’t pass on their final test. And he feels oddly empty about it.

He certainly didn’t expect to be on vacation with Rufus in Costa Del Sol and get a pat on his back and hear an old nickname.

“Well, well… If it isn’t long-locks.”

Tseng chokes on his drink.

Fucking _Trent_ was still alive.

Rufus is sitting by his side, and eyebrow quirked in curiosity.

“Who’s this?”

“I’m Trent.” He offers his hand and Rufus shakes it. “We were in the Turk Academy together.”

Tseng finishes his drink and orders another. It was going to be a _very_ long night.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @OneBrainSel on Twitter.


End file.
